


The End is just the Beginning

by Kinnon



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:12:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1709543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinnon/pseuds/Kinnon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on Tom's return in the finale of Spooks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The walk to the gated compound, hidden back into the forest, took an age. Or at least that’s how it felt. He knew what lay within, _who_ lay within, and what his task was. He wasn’t a man used to failure, except for that one, spectacular moment all those years ago.

On his approach he took note of the men on the roof, of those within his eyeline, picked out by his keen eyesight and years of experience in security matters. Undoubtedly there were others, hidden watchers clutching their firearms and tense at their possible use.

Tom Quinn hadn’t come alone, however.

“There are four on the roof, four more hidden back in the trees and two in front of you, boss,” came a voice in his ear. That was Beth Bailey, recently decommissioned from Section D, his old stomping ground, and recruited due to an anonymous tip that had no doubt come from Harry or Ruth.

Harry had been right when they had that last discussion, six years ago. 

They hadn’t seen each other since. But that didn’t mean there had been no contact. A suggestion here, a brief email there and several commissions that had cemented Trans Atlantic Security, the company he had started with his ex-CIA wife, as a contractor of note. Three times Tom and his crew had been called in to mop up Section D, one of those times to literally clean up after a Head of Section who had taken a tragic decision to end his life.

Once and only once, he had seen Ruth and it was back to that day he thought. 

 

Five years ago, after an operation had gone wrong and Danny had been killed. The phone call had come in the middle of the night a few days after an explosion in central London. He remembered it well, the tone in Ruth’s voice meant he’d never forget it.

They met in Hyde Park the next day by Queen Caroline’s memorial on a beautiful and busy day. Ruth had arrived first while Tom watched, his training never lost though at that time seldom used. She was staring off into the distance in that haunting way she had, a look of pain freezing her face in a picture of grief.

Tom approached from behind and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Ruth…” he said softly, trying not to scare her.

She twisted with a start, instinct making her push his hand away and take a step back. She looked at him, briefly shocked, eyes glistening with tears. Her mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound escaped and he knew in that moment why she had called.

“Zoe?” he asked her, a catch in his throat. Ruth shook her head and it dropped to her chest. Danny then. Something broke inside him in that moment at the knowledge his friend was dead. It was always a risk in this line of work and he had known other colleagues killed in the line of duty, but once upon a time Tom thought that that he, Danny and Zoe would have been working together forever, protecting the country against all odds.

He took her arm and they walked for a few minutes in silence, neither being able to find the words. “How…?” he started. “You can’t tell me, of course you can’t,” he said bitterly.  


Ruth leant into him and linked her arm through his. “He was killed protecting Adam’s wife,” she told him bitterly. When Ruth had joined them from GCHQ there had been some initial, and justified, suspicion about her. But quickly she had gelled with them, had joined the family unit they were building.

Knowing that Danny had died to protect someone made Tom proud and it was nothing more than he would have expected from his friend.

They walked for a little longer, sharing memories of Danny, both careful not to speak about specific operations; Ruth shouldn’t even have been speaking to Tom, and could lose her job over it. Still, Tom appreciated the chance to talk about Danny and share his grief with someone who felt the same as he did.

“How are things with you, Tom, since…” Ruth asked suddenly changing the subject. He held up his left hand to display the gold band on his ring finger with a sad smile in answer. “Tom!” she exclaimed throwing her arms around his neck. “Who?” He just smiled and she answered for him. “Christine Dale!”

“We got together officially the day after I was decommissioned,” Tom explained. Even six months ago he would have been angry at those words, but not now, things had changed. “We travelled for a few months together and got married almost on a whim. At Gretna Green of all places!” he laughed. “We’re going into business together; private security consultants. With our contacts on either side of the Atlantic we’ll be able to make it work.”

Ruth looked at him and smiled. “So you’ll need good people working for you then?” He looked at her quizzically. “Not me,” she said with a laugh, “Harry needs me.” She pressed a piece of paper into his hand.

“Who is this?” he asked looking at the name and foreign address.

Ruth squeezed his arm as she smiled. “Persephone.”

 

His shoes crunched the dry dirt and leaves beneath his feet as he approached the metal, link fence that guarded the compound. Tom saw a guard, a hulking beast of a man, walk towards him, a scowl on his face and suspicion in his eyes.

“Be advised that the moment Tom enters the compound we start jamming all signals; they’re going to know something is wrong and quickly.” That was Persephone herself, Zoe Reynolds, acting as control for this mission.

In the years since Trans Atlantic Security had been formed Tom and Christine had done well in recruiting officers with intelligence experience, several of them from Section D, reluctant allies of MI-5 or people known to them. They made a formidable team.

They had retrieved Zoe, her husband and their child from Chile a year after Tom’s meeting with Ruth. He hadn’t wanted to disturb her exile, nor the perfect life that had built up around it, but they needed her skills. As it turned out, Zoe, while loving the domestic arrangement she had with Will, had missed the adrenaline rush of security and had trained her husband in intelligence surveillance. They couldn’t do work within Britain, for obvious reasons, though Tom vowed to rectify that once 2014 came and her ten year sentence was ended. Will also insisted his wife did not engage in any risky field work and so on larger operations like this she acted as control while Will did surveillance.

Beth Bailey had come to them six months ago and was more than happy to sign up with an operation such as theirs. Once little more than a mercenary, she had developed the morality needed to work for the Service and happily put this to work for Tom. Shortly after Beth came Alec White, a former disgraced officer who had nonetheless been one of the best internal affairs agents MI-5 had ever had. His brief association with Harry had been enough to persuade him to seek help for his alcohol addiction and turn his life around.  


The other two members of today’s team were also amongst the most enigmatic and difficult. 

Against Tom’s better judgement Christine had recruited Jean-Luc Goyon, a former DGSE agent that Section D had butted heads with some years ago. He was a remarkable and capable agent who also had Special Forces training, but after the assassination of Jerome Durand, a French scientist, Tom couldn’t bring himself to trust the man. In the two years he had worked with them he had never given him reason to quest his loyalty, but there was always a nagging feeling at the back of his mind.

The last would be supporting Tom inside the compound with her considerable skill base.

Stopping in front of the gate, Tom eyed the man up, noting the tell-tale bulge of the gun underneath his jacket and the straight back gait with which he walked that suggested service in the military.

“I have an appointment with Mikhail Levrov. He's expecting me.”

The gate swung open with a creak and Tom walk in, his heart beating a little faster, the familiar feeling of excitement coursing through him.

Show time.


	2. Chapter 2

As Tom entered the house sat in the middle of the compound he took stock of the people he was dealing with.

The information given to him had been sparse; in fairness once he had been told they were responsible for the death of Ruth it hadn’t mattered who they were. Officially, Tom and his team were there to tie up the loose ends and… ‘deal’ with the problem that neo-nationalist committee posed. The reality was this was an assassination ordered because of grief. Revenge was something Tom understood, and in this case, shared.

Though the man behind him walked casually, he kept enough of a distance to draw his weapon unencumbered but close enough to reach Tom if he needed to intervene. Little did he know that neither would be much of an option for him.

The building was made out of glass and steel, a modern industrial building that was much in keeping with this part of Russia. Inside it was sharp steel lines, glistening glass walls and windows and polished concrete floors. It was the perfect place to launch a conspiracy.

The surveillance that Will had been doing for the previous three days had told them that Mikhail Levrov had shipped his family out almost as soon as the appointment with Tom had been made. There had been a flurry of calls between the compound, Moscow and London and heightened security, no doubt as a result of Tom’s reputation.

As he made his way up the glass staircase he could see that the main living space was sparsely furnished and impersonal. The few pieces of artwork dotted around the walls and the sculptures were expensive and Tom would have been surprised if they weren’t original. It would be a shame to destroy them.

The man himself was standing staring out of the window, a pile of paperwork on a table behind him.

“МихаилLevrov,я полагаю?  _Mikhail Levrov, I presume?_ ” Tom asked. The guard behind him took up a spot in the corner of the room, giving himself a clear view of anything going on. Two other men stood in identical poses in other corners.

There was a faint crackling in his ear. “Alpha One, there are twelve men in total, including those in side with you.” That was Zoe again. “Alpha Two, Alpha Three once the five on the ground change their patrol rotation, take out the watchers on the roof.” Both Beth and Alec were armed with AS50 sniper rifles fitted with silencers and would be providing long distance cover. “Alpha Four you are good to go.” The last instruction was for Jean-Luc, currently infiltrating via the rear of the compound. His Special Forces training made him ideally suited to this kind of intrusion work and he would take out the ground troops one by one from the trees.

Levrov turned to look at Tom, his steely eyed gaze clashing with Tom’s cold, blue eyed stare. “Г-н Куинн, ваша репутация исходит вас.  Как делает свою работу на британское правительство.  _Mr Quinn, your reputation proceeds you.  As does your work for the British government._ ”

“ЕленаГаврикмертв,убитее муж.  _Elena Gavrik is dead, killed by her husband._ ” There was little point in pretence at this point. Tom, and his intentions had been expected.

That stopped Levrov in his tracks. He knew that their plot had been foiled, that much was obvious, but he hadn’t realised that their agent in London had been discovered, never mind killed. Elena had been one of the best and for years had oversaw dozens of operations, provided numerous pieces of high level intelligence and thwarted the left wing, Western loving elements of their government. Her loss was a blow but would not stop them.

Levrov gave nothing away. “Почему бы смерть жены российского министра касается меня?  _Why would the death of the wife of Russian minister concern me_?" The level of tension in the room rose just noticeably enough that the three men watching their proceedings all moved their hands to their holsters in one movement.

“This is Alpha Three,” came a voice in his ear, Alec’s flat tones. “Targets neutralised. Alpha One we have a bead on your boggies.” The pieces were nearly in place so it would not be long now.

Tom allowed the hint of a smile to cross his face. “Я бы подумал, что смерть высокопоставленного оперативника бы представлять интерес для человека, который завербовал ее в КГБ, в первую очередь. _I would have thought that the death of a high ranking operative would be of interest to the man who recruited her into the KGB in the first place._ ”

“Еленабыла членомКГБ?Теперьэто новость.  _Elena was a member of the KGB? Now that is news._ ” Levrov sat on the couch but did not extend the invitation. “Теперь, как о чем-то, чтобы пить. Чай? Это то, что вы британцы хотели, не так ли? Для более цивилизованных случаях _._ _Now, how about something to drink.  Tea? That's what you Brits like isn't it? For the more civilised occasions_.”

Inclining his head, but saying nothing, Tom remained standing. A door opened behind him and the clink of china moved towards him. A small, slight figure moved past carrying a silver tray laden with all the things needed for afternoon tea, including scones and clotted cream. Not only were they expected but Levrov had prepared; a small feeling of doubt began to creep in.

The woman set the tray down, keeping her head bent and started unloading its contents. She was dressed plainly in baggy clothing, clearly Levrov’s maid or serving woman. She was dark haired and young from what Tom could see, and Tom had no doubts that Levrov’s motivates in her hiring were less than honourable.

In fact he was sure of it.

“Спасибо,Валентина.  _Thank you, Valentina,_ ” Levrov said fondly, allowing his gaze to wander up the length of her body. “Познакомьтесь с нашим гостем. Это Том Куинн; он шпион из Великобритании.  Ранее Раздел начальник разделе D, я прав, Том? _Meet our guest.  This is Tom Quinn; he is a spy from Britain.  Formerly Section Chief of Section D, am I right, Tom?_ ” Tom said nothing. “Этомоя горничная, ВалентинаАбдулова _._ _This is my maid, Valentina Abdulova._ ”   

It was clear that Levrov felt something for the woman, but Tom knew that when all was said and done she was little more than a pawn the same of the rest of the pieces on the board. Men like Levrov used everyone in their lives. It was so ingrained in them, like breathing, and Tom had seen dozens of them through the years.

For a second his thoughts turned to Robert Osbourne, a right wing lunatic whose wife was little more than a means to an end. In the end Claire Osbourne rose above the years of abuse that she had been subjected to and was the means through which Tom escaped. Osbourne was a brutal and sadistic individual; he executed one of Tom’s colleagues with a revoltingly creative use of a deep fat fryer and gun. Shortly after that operation Osbourne was killed and Tom had never kept track of Claire; he always regretted that, she was a good woman who had been kept low by a man who was little more than a monster.

Considering he was going to manipulate the British government into shooting down a Russian passenger jet to incite a war, Levrov was no different.

Valentina looked up at him under furrowed brow and mumbled something. He didn’t ask her to repeat it. She continued to lay out the cups and then pour tea, all the while keeping her head down. When she was finished she looked in Levrov’s direction who dismissed her with a wave.

She walked past him and for the briefest moment looked at him with a knowing look. Tom marvelled at the performance, it was as masterful as he thought it would be.

Elizaveta Starkova, the final member of his team, was indeed a good actress.


End file.
